


moondust will cover you

by Port_of_Morrow



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_of_Morrow/pseuds/Port_of_Morrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fic about when everything started meaning something with Harry and Nick. shamelessly fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	moondust will cover you

Harry and Nick had left the party early. Just some popstar bash that Nick was obliged to attend, and Harry of course came with him. Harry came everywhere with Nick now.

 

London looked different after midnight, and Harry and Nick decided to walk, even though it was nearly minus one outside.

 

“It's cold as fu-uck,” Harry griped, rubbing his thighs through his black skinny jeans as they walked to keep warm.

 

“It'll be warm inside,” Nick sighed back, in his ever-soothing accent that reminded Harry of home.

 

After Harry gave an indignant “hmph,” Nick inclined his body towards Harry to murmur, “I'll  _get_  you nice and warm, how 'bout that?”

 

“Better,” Harry gave a half grin, kicking Nick's ankle with the toe of his frankly ridiculously pointy shoes.

 

Harry smiled to himself, because he liked how Him & Nick had started meaning something. Because Nick and Harry had been doing this since virtually the day they met – nudging each other, making sex jokes at every opportunity (“How d’you want your coffee, Harold?” “Pale and bitter, like my men, thanks,” “Oh? I always pinned you as a guy who'd take it straight,”, “Me? Straight? Not with you around...”) and so forth. But it started meaning things recently.

 

It started meaning things to Harry when he found that he was standing up dates so he could spend time with his  _best pal_  Nick, and when he actually went out with people, he just wanted to be at his flat, kicking about with Nick in front of the telly. It started meaning things to Nick when he went to Europe on holiday and started hooking up with boys with long brown hair, pale skin, muscular arms and tattoos. It started meaning things to both of them when they went and sat on a fire escape outside a gig, and Harry's head lolled onto Nick's shoulder as it sometimes did, and Nick scraped his fingertips through Harry's locks, across his scalp, and they both realised quite quickly that they didn't really want to be anywhere in the world besides there, with each other.

 

And like with most things, (Harry's career, Nick's moisturising routine), the meaning started off slowly, and then started racing like a jet, without warning.

 

Nick couldn't think of anything besides Harry. Harry couldn't remember what he even  _did_  before he spent every weekend and most evenings over at Nicks, or the other way around. But then it really meant something – all the foolishness, messing about, name-calling, teasing – precisely a month before this night when Nick found Harry keeping warm by throwing the DJ's university hoodie over his boyish frame – and Nick couldn't do anything besides grab a handful of the grey sweatshirt and kiss the breath out of Harry.

 

Harry had kissed him back, before pulling away and like a scared possum, grabbing his backpack and running back to his own flat.

 

Nick still had the text saved that Harry had sent him that night. Nick had is screenshotted and copied out on a post-it in case he ever lost his phone.

 

11.39pm

FROM:  **hazzaaa**

**sorry I ran away. I've been mad about u for months. It felt like a dream – was worried if I stayed i'd wake up or somethin. Godddd that sounds so gay. Xxx**

Harry had the text that Nick had sent back to him, scribbled in the back of his diary.

 

11.43pm

FROM:  **my best pal nick is wonderful & fab and I owe him my life**

**the absolute gayest. I adore you harold. I have no clue why but seein my clothes on you just made me think that I’d quite like to share everything with you, & I don't feel like that about anyone else rlly. Get a good night's sleep popstar, and ring me after the show tommorow x**

Everything had started meaning something after that. On that cold London street Harry reached over and grabbed Nick’s hand. Nick was tense for a moment. They didn’t usually extend their affection beyond the confines of their flat, but Harry’s hand felt like home in his. The air was freezing and his head felt hazy and tired, but Harry’s hand in his felt clear, in focus, and – in their worlds of superficiality and ingenuity - it felt real.

 


End file.
